


Blood Makes Love

by Fandom_Overload7890



Category: Red Queen - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Post-Canon, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 07:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14612445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_Overload7890/pseuds/Fandom_Overload7890
Summary: "Let's cut the shit. Why are you here"Cal honestly didn't know.Or Cal visits Maven after it's all said and done.





	Blood Makes Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest oneshot I've ever written. I'm so ridiculously proud of this! I'm sorry if there are any typos, I only proofread this once. 
> 
> Serious Trigger Warning: Suicide and Mental Health Issues 
> 
> I do not own anything in the Red Queen series, including these wonderful characters.

**Day 27.**

It takes him a month to get there. The commotion after his abdicated from the throne takes up the brunt of his time. Every day he faces a torrent of meetings and negotiations;  who gets what and how much? What should the rules be? Who’s in charge? The number of questions makes his head spin. He had never had a head for politics. Not like Maven. 

The room is pretty much completely white. The couches and chairs have been bleached and the room has the strong smell of disinfectant. There was one loveseat pushed against the wall, sitting beneath a wire threaded window. Posters hung up on the wall with cheesy slogans. Cal couldn’t stop looking at one that said “Smile!” with a cartoon of a huge grin underneath it. A couple crayons were strewn across the table Cal sat at, next to a stack of paper. There were no pencils allowed. Someone might try to scratch at themselves. 

Cal scribbled at a piece of paper with a crayon. He didn’t want to look at the clips in the center of the table or the door. His mind couldn’t stop spinning in circles. It hadn’t even really been that long since they’d last seen each other. 27 days by Cal’s counting. That was nothing compared to the months where the only thing that refreshed their memories were broadcasts. 

The door creaked open and Cal startled, jumping to look over at the two people shuffling in. Cal scanned him, looking him up and down for a second before tearing his eyes away. Looking at him right now was too much. 

The girl next to him was small, but Cal knew better than to let looks fool him. Her grip on his arm was more than enough to show Cal that she was stronger than she looked. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, far out of the reach of any hands eager to pull it in an escape attempt. Cal could feel her silence from here, her oppressive waves pounding over him, making it hard to breathe. That, plus the silent stone that built this room, made Cal want to jump out of his skin. He felt like piles and piles of sand were being poured on top of him, no end in sight, no escape, and no hope for movement. But he chose this. That didn’t stop him from wishing that the Arven’s didn’t go overkill. He didn’t understand how Mare could take this kind of intensity while she was a prisoner. He didn’t understand how  _ he  _ could take it. 

Maven sat down across the table from him. 

He looked surprisingly good considering the circumstances. The bags under his eyes had become a fixture, even with the stress of being king removed. He probably had other things to be stressed about though. Like the fact that his wrists were dragged down by heavy shackles, just like the ones he put Mare in. Though she didn’t have the pleasure of getting shackles on her feet, like the ones his escort were currently securing to the leg of the table. His hands were folded in an attempt to hide the slight tremor in his fingers. Cal had never seen Maven shake like this and it sent chills down his spine. What had Maven endured to cause that? Regardless of what it was, it hadn’t been able to dull the furious and curious glint in Maven’s eyes. 

He didn’t ask why Cal was there, though. All they did was sit in silence. Cal doodling nothing on his piece of paper and Maven watching him with sharp eyes. 

Finally, Maven broke the silence. “What are you drawing?” 

Cal’s mouth quirked into a smile. His doodle looked like a mess or circles and squiggles. 

“It was supposed to be a tree.” 

Maven snorted. “It’s terrible.” 

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Cal rolled his eyes. It was just like Maven to get to the point in something like this. He might be a wordsmith, but he always remained blunt in regards to Cal’s faults. 

“Let’s cut the shit. Why are you here?” 

Cal honestly didn’t know. 

**Day 41.**

Maven looked exhausted. 

Cal didn’t think it was possible. It looked like his skin was hanging off his skeleton. His hair was matted down, he clearly had not been washing it. Not that it mattered anymore, there were no more broadcasts for him to look proper for. For a moment Cal wondered how paint got smudged under both of Maven’s eyes. With a jolt, Cal realized it wasn’t paint under his eyes, but extremely pronounced eyebags. When was the last time he got any sleep? 

“Wow, you look like shit,” Cal marveled. Maven snorted. 

“Cutting right to it then?” 

“Are you okay? Have you gotten any sleep? You look like you’ve been up for days. And don’t they let you shower?” Cal knew that this isn’t what he should be focused on. Maven’s a murderer, Cal shouldn’t be asking him if he’s okay. 

Maven rolled his eyes. “Relax, Cal. You’re not my-” Maven cut himself off. The word  _ mother _ hung in the air. The room was charged with tension. “Anyway, other than the fact that I’m stuck in this prison, I’m fine.” 

“This isn’t a prison.” 

“You wanna bet, Cal?” Maven pulled at his shackled, making a loud jangling noise. The sharp sound of metal against metal set Cal on edge. “I spend all day, every day in a tiny room by myself. I have a bed, a sink, and a toilet, which, coincidentally is right next to my bed. I get to shower twice a week and all my meals are supervised. I am watched  _ every second  _ and I have nothing to do but read the one approved book I’m allowed at a time or talk to that fucking therapist. So, yes I do think I’m in a prison.” Cal really didn’t know what to say to that. “Oh and I forgot. Of course, if I’m bored, I can have these  _ lovely  _ chats with you.” 

“I’m, uh, sorry. I’ll, uh, try to see what I can do about getting you some, uh,” he grappled for something to say, “more books.” 

“Yes, Cal, that’s exactly what I want. More books.” 

“Well, I didn’t exactly think that these were such horrific conversations,” Cal said, suddenly getting defensive. He knew that Maven didn’t exactly love him right now, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped that Maven did actually enjoy these chats. Maven did agree to talk to Cal when he showed up. 

“They’re not exactly the most stimulating,” Maven retorted. 

“Then what would you like to talk about?” 

Maven took his time responding. Cal could see the slight shifts of his face as he ran through different things to say. Cal could imagine him swiping through and discarding ideas the way he would push all the pieces of the board when they played games together. First, he would pick off one piece, then another, and then another. Finally, he would swipe everything off the board and they would descend into fits of laughter. It was something he picked up from Cal when they were younger. Maven’s eyes refocused. He had swiped all the pieces of the board. 

“What happened, you know, after I was sent here?” Cal knew exactly what he was asking about and had the sneaking suspicion that that’s what he wanted to know the whole time. For a brief moment, Cal wondered if he should be telling Maven this. 

But in the end, Cal told him everything. Maven had no reaction to anything, just the slight tilt of his head, edging Cal on to continue talking. Except for when Cal hesitantly brought Mare up. He watched Maven’s left eye twitch when he mentioned Mare’s name for the first time, and saw the slight scratching of his thumb at his pointed finger. 

In the end, all Maven said was “Interesting.” 

And that’s all there really was to say. 

**Day 75.**

One of the staff members pulls him aside as he’s leaving. 

“Mr. Calore!” She calls after him as he’s walking down the corridor. It’s still jarring to hear himself be called that. Mr. Calore. It just doesn’t seem like him. 

“Yes?” 

“I was hoping to speak to you about your, uh, brother.” The nurse is short and small. She comes up to only about Cal’s shoulder. She has dark brown skin that has a stark contrast to the white uniform she’s wearing, and black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Normally, she would remind Cal of Mare, but there’s something distinctly different about them.  _ Their eyes,  _ Cal realizes. While Mare’s are hard, the nurses are soft. Her’s are kind and warm, and Cal feels immediately at ease. 

“What about him?” And now Cal feels worried again. 

“You were just with him. I’m sure that you could see that he’s getting worse.” She was right. Maven’s appearance had been on the steady decline. Everytime Cal saw him he looked more and more exhausted. His frame grew thinner as he visibly lost more weight. It was concerning, and Cal had actually been thinking of talking to some of the staff. 

“Yeah,” was all he said in response. 

“Obviously, he’s not sleeping. He’ll either have nightmares, or he’ll stay up all night staring at the corner. If he does this for a few nights in a row, we give him a sedative, but we’re a little hesitant to do that. We don’t want him to get addicted, or have some other health issues. Also, he hasn’t been eating. Half of the issue is that he doesn’t like the food here. He complains that it’s not up to his standards. So, maybe you could talk to your, uh,” there was an awkward pause, “higher up friends. But that’s not the only thing. Sometimes he just-” she paused again, “-doesn’t eat. Say’s he’s not hungry or will just push the plate away. He’s also having some hygiene issues. He either won’t do anything, no brushing teeth, barely showering, or he’ll scrub his skin until it bleeds. If this keeps happening, then we might have to have staff take over for hygiene stuff. Is that okay?” Cal nodded numbly. 

She continued on. “But I don’t want that to happen, and I doubt you do too. So I was wondering, is there anything you know that might be able to help? Anything nannies or your parents did-” 

“Elara wasn’t my mother.” 

“Oh,” she looked nervous. Cal had spent so long around the Scarlet Guard, he had forgotten that there were Red’s who were actively afraid of Silvers. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that you had the same mother, I just meant-” 

“No, it’s okay.” 

She gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, but her whole body remained tense. “Anyways, is there anything that you could think of that would help?” 

Cal sighed. “No. I don’t know if you were told this but,” he said in a strangled voice, “Elara, when she didn’t like something about him, she would-” Cal paused. After so long, it still wasn’t easy to say this. “-she would go into his mind and change it. Cut whatever she didn’t like out of him.” All the tension drained out of the nurse. Cal knew it was probably becoming the same pit in his stomach he had. “His health was already declining after Elara died. I’d imagine now that he no longer has to maintain pretenses as king, he’s allowing the full extent of his issues show.” 

“Thank you,” she said tensely, “for your help. I’ll keep you updated on his condition.”

“Thank you, I would like that very much.” 

**Day 89.**

Is his hair clean? Check. 

Are his nails short? Check. 

Are his fingers bandaged? Check. 

Are his eyebags less pronounced? Not enough. 

Has he gained weight? Not enough. 

“You can stop that now.” 

Cal tore his eyes away from scanning up and down Maven’s body to look him in the eyes. “Stop what?” 

Maven rolled his eyes. “You’re little checkup.” 

“My  _ what _ ?” 

“You do this every time we see each other now. You watch me and make notes to talk about with the staff afterward.” Maven looked him directly in the eyes. “I’m fine.” 

Cal bit back the  _ if you were fine you wouldn’t have become a homicidal maniac and killed people and kidnapped Mare and help kill our father and dethrone me, and you certainly wouldn’t have ended up in this asylum.  _ But the staff told him that today was a good day, and he didn’t want to ruin it. 

“Anyway, wanna play a game?” 

Maven huffed. “You ask me that everytime you come.” 

“You don’t always say yes.” 

A pause. 

“Fine. I’ll play a game with you. Cal, please stop doing that; you’re making me regret saying yes.” Cal grinned and kept doing the fist pump in the air. 

“Stop this? Never.” 

Cal went and got the game board. It was no secret that Maven had always been the smarter of the brothers and Cal the stronger. But board games are where they were evenly matched. Particularly, chess. Maven’s smarts were equally matched to Cal’s strategy. Sometime’s their games could go on for hours, only to end in stalemate. But ever since they were little, they had kept up a tally of who won the most games. So far, Cal was winning. 

Together they set up the board. They worked in sync, so many years of this routine that it was second nature. 

Cal made the first move. 

Then Maven. 

Back and forth they went, their hands dancing around each other. They spoke sporadically throughout the game, but mostly they were focused on winning. Even though it didn’t really feel like it, Cal had always been one for puzzles. He needed the mental challenge. War and political strategy classes gave him that kick in school and mechanics were a puzzle that he could fall back on whenever he needed to. But playing with Maven had always been a stress relief. It was a way to see his brother when royal duties kept them apart and a place where Cal could relax and just be  _ him.  _ In a way, it still is. 

“Alright boys, it’s time to wrap up,” the nurse smiled at them from across the room. Cal should really learn her name by now. 

Cal and Maven both glanced at the clock. Woah, Cal had no idea they had been playing for so long. The time went faster than a Swift. 

“Good game Cal. So sorry we didn’t have enough time for me to beat you,” Maven drawled, standing while the nurse unlocked his shackles from the table. 

“Ugh, that’s what you think, but I had you in the palm of my hands.” 

“That’s what you think.” 

Cal smiled as he watched Maven walk out the door. Today had been a good day. 

**Day 102.**

Cal could already tell Maven was in a bad mood as soon as he walked through the door. He could see it in Maven’s posture. His shoulders had a slight curve, but he still radiated a presence of do-not-fuck-with-me vibes. 

Cal ran his checklist in his head, and Maven failed every item. His eye bags were so pronounced Cal could clearly see them from across the room. The same thing with his collar bones. His whole frame seemed bonier than before because of the amount of weight he lost. Maven’s hair was filthy, so weighed down by the grease and dirt that his curls laid almost flat against his head. As he moved closer, Cal could smell him slightly. Didn’t the nurse offer to wash him herself? When was that going to happen? Because it seemed like it needed to be soon. 

“What?” 

“Well, hello to you too.” 

“Look, Cal, I’m not in the mood right now, so fuck off.” 

“If you weren’t in the mood, why did you agree to see me?” 

Maven’s jaw tightened. “Maybe because I’m stuck in this fucking hellhole, and the only hope I have of getting out of here is you.” 

“Look at who's finally being honest,” Cal said, pointedly not acknowledging what Maven had actually said. 

“Do you think this is a joke?” 

“No Maven, I don’t think that the fact that my brother is a homicidal maniac is a joke. I don’t think it’s funny that you are so batshit insane that you held my girlfriend hostage and I had to do everything I could to stop her from killing you.” 

“Mare’s your girlfriend?” Maven whispered after a period of silence. 

Cal mentally beat himself up. He knew he shouldn’t have brought up Mare. 

“Yeah,” Cal answered. 

“Congratulations,” Maven said bitterly. 

“You did this to yourself,” Cal retorted because apparently, they were both being honest tonight. 

“Don’t you think I know that? I do not need to hear this from you-” Maven snapped, then added as an afterthought, “-or that fucking therapist.” 

“She’s there to help, Mavey.” 

“Do not,” Maven had a deadly, serious look in his eyes, “call me that.” 

They stared at each other. Maven, with his intensity, and Cal, with his turmoil. How did things get so screwed up? How did it come to Maven and Cal only seeing each other whenever Cal could do the drive down? When did it get to the point where Maven needed to be locked up? Cal wanted to scream. His whole life had gone down to shit ever since Mare fell into the Queenstrial so long ago. Cal took a breath. He had to remind himself, it wasn’t Mare’s fault. Things would have gone bad regardless of if Mare came or not. 

They only maintained eye contact for a few seconds. Then Maven’s eyes became glossy and slid over to look at the empty space over Cal’s shoulder. With a cold chill, Cal realized that Maven wasn’t here anymore. Yes, his body was here, but his mind was not. That was somewhere far in the past. Cal dreaded to think about whatever hellscape Maven’s mind took him. 

“Mavey?” He knew Maven just told him not to call him that, but he couldn’t help it. Maven didn’t respond. “Mavey?” 

Maven blinked, coming back to himself in a jerk. Cal could see all his muscles tense up. His eyes darted around and his mouth took in jagged breaths. The nurse, who had already been watching them from the door, crossed the room in swift steps. 

“Maven? Come on, this way,” she murmured, guiding him out of the room. And he let her, shuffling towards his room, probably to sit on his bed, staring at the corner. 

And Cal sat at the table. 

**Day 113.**

Maven shuffles in, barely supporting his own weight. Cal can see the staff member guiding a wheelchair into the room, just in case he can’t walk back. The staff supporting him try to escort him to the table, but he moves toward the couch instead. 

Cal wanted to sob looking at his brother. His body seemed so frail. Cal could count all of the bones on his exposed limbs. The skin on his face was pulled taut. He had just barely enough weight on him not to look like a walking skeleton. His eyes were bloodshot, giving away how little he’d slept, even without the eyebags. Cal could see little specks of blood seeping through the disrupted band-aids on Maven’s fingers. Someone had clearly tried to treat the scratches on his fingers, a nervous habit that had never before gotten this bad. His hair was surprisingly damp. Cal imagined that the staff tried to make him somewhat presentable by forcing some kind of washing. The thing that broke Cal’s heart the most, though, was the shaking. A small tremor was running through Maven’s body, most prominent in his hands. Cal wanted to cry. His brother looked so small, so  _ young _ . It was hard to remember that his brother was only 18. So young and already so broken. 

Maven curled up in the corner of the couch, his back against the left arm. He put his feet up on the cushion and wrapped his arms around his knees. 

Cal’s throat felt raw. 

He slowly made his way to the couch, every step like he was walking on eggshells. Maven was a wild animal, and Cal was not eager to spook him away. 

He sat on the couch a couple inches away from Maven. He could clearly see the slight tremors wracking through his body, making it appear as though he was sobbing. 

Cal didn’t know what to do with his hands. Did he just sit here next to Maven in silence? Did he pretend this wasn’t happening and talk to him like normal? Cal looked at the staff. Their faces were blank, and they simply shrugged when he raised his eyebrows. Finally, he decided to do probably the stupidest move. He wrapped his arms around Maven. 

He could feel Maven tense up. It made the shaking slightly worse, but Cal kept his arms steady. 

Maven’s breathing started to pick up. He took deep gasps for air like he was drowning. Startled, Cal realized that Maven was  _ crying.  _ Well, not crying, but doing the closest he could. He was going through the motions like he was crying, but no tears were coming out. Rage pooled in Cal’s stomach. Elara had done this. She had made it so that his brother was so broken that he couldn’t even show the barest of emotion. Cal wished she was still alive, only so that he could kill her himself. 

“Shhhhhh,” Cal soothed, trying to help his brother. He brushed his fingers through Maven’s curls. Maven started to gasp more, but his body relaxed a little. Cal took that as a sign that he was relaxing, letting himself be vulnerable around Cal. 

The staff watched them for a little bit, then slowly filled out of the room. Cal knew they were still standing just outside. It felt nice. Even though Maven was having the ultimate bad day, this was the first time they had been alone together since Mare fell into their lives all those months ago. 

They sat huddled on the couch for what felt like hours. Nothing but the sounds of breathing and shushing filled the air. Neither moved, other than the occasional shift. Eventually, though, Maven pulled back. 

His skin was paler than anything Cal had ever seen, and his eyes looked hollow. He draped himself over the arm of the couch, letting his body hang against it. He seemed empty like this moment had drained everything out of him. Every ounce of personality and emotion was gone. He was the shell of a person. 

“Why?” His voice was hoarse. There was no thank you. No explanation on his half. 

“Because you’re my brother,” the answer came easy. 

They didn’t say anything else. 

**Day 121.**

Maven refused to see him. 

**Day 154.**

It’s days like this that make Cal wishful. He wishes his father never died. He wishes that Mare never fell into the arena during the Queenstrial. He wishes that the revolution never happened. He wishes that Elara never fucked up his brother. 

“Your turn,” Maven reminds him. They’re playing cards this time. Maven, unfortunately, is in the lead. 

“Yes, I know that,” Cal hissed. He was so screwed. Maven was totally going to beat him. He had no good cards and no points to fall back on. Cal started to sweat. 

“Are you okay brother? You seem a little nervous.” 

“I’m fine! I’m not nervous, you’re nervous. You’re just scared I’m going to beat you.” 

“Oh Cal, please. Banter doesn’t suit you.” 

“Banter doesn’t suit me?  _ Banter doesn’t suit me?  _ How  _ dare?”  _ Cal wiped all the cards off the table. 

“Oh come on! That’s cheating!” 

“I am not cheating!” 

“Oh really? Then what was that?” 

“The proper reaction to when someone insults you.” 

“That’s the proper reaction when someone insults you? And they say I’m the overdramatic one…” 

“What? Who says that?” 

“Who do you think?” 

“Evangeline should not throw stones at glass houses.” 

Maven laughed. “You know, for a stuck up, overshadowing asshole, you’re really not so bad.” 

Cal chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And you know, for a homicidal, power-hungry maniac, you’re not so bad.” 

**Day 182.**

Why is this taking so long? Didn’t the checking in process at this place know that Cal had to visit his brother? 

It had been a while since Cal had been able to get back to the asylum. He had been busy for a while with new government stuff and had broken his schedule of visiting Maven once a week. But now he was itching to see his brother again. Things had been going well before, and Cal was eager to see his brother again. These bonding moments felt like a step forward. For the first time in a long time, Cal felt hopeful about Maven’s mental recovery. 

“Mr. Calore?” Ugh, there was that Mister again. Even after months of being called that, it still never failed to make Cal uncomfortable. 

“Yes?” Cal asked. It was that nurse again. She didn’t look happy to see him. 

“Could you please follow me?” Cal nodded. 

She led Cal down a short hallway. It was a wing of the asylum that Cal had been in only a handful of times before. It was where all the staff offices are. Cal felt dread pool in his stomach. Was something wrong with Maven? Has his good days taken a turn for the worse? 

She lead him into a small office. “Please, sit down.” 

Cal didn’t want to sit down, but he did so anyway. “What is this about?” 

She took a deep breath and folded her hands across the desk. “Mr. Calore, a couple weeks back your brother’s health took a turn for the worse.” Cal released a deep sigh. He knew this was coming. “He was starting to regain to the point where he was months ago. We grew worried, but our main concern was nutritional, he wasn’t eating enough or getting enough water.” She took another deep breath. Cal was afraid to breathe. “Our main concern should have been geared towards what he might do to himself. Mr. Calore, I’m so sorry, but your brother took his own life two weeks ago.” 

Cal felt like he was underwater. He couldn’t breathe. “How-How-?” 

“He tore bedsheets and used them to tie around the fan in his room.” 

The air around Cal got hot. He couldn’t focus on containing his powers now, not when his brother was  _ dead _ . 

“How did you not catch this? How did you not realize he was going to do this?” Was Cal screaming? He couldn’t tell, not with the ringing in his ears. 

“We didn’t think he’d have the energy. The day’s before that he barely had the energy to walk,” she countered. 

Cal closed his eyes. This was too much. Maven couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be. All those times Cal imagined killing him during the war, he never really wanted it. Not even at his angriest. And this was the last thing Cal imagined. Maven didn’t seem like the person to do this. There was no way Maven did this. 

“You’re lying. You’re lying, there’s no way Maven did this. There is no way Ma-” Cal choked back a sob. His legs felt weak. If he wasn’t sitting down, Cal would have surely fallen onto the floor. 

He felt like he did all that time ago after his father’s death. His brain felt shattered like he was being splintered into a million different directions. He felt like he was trapped in molasse, moving slowly through the motions. At the same time, everything was too fast. It had been too long since he had seen Maven. He was a terrible brother. He should have been here. He should have visited more, he would have caught the signs. He would have been able to prevent this. This was his fault. 

This was his fault. 

This was his fault. 

Oh God, his brother’s death was his fault. 

“It’s not your fault.” 

Cal looked back at the nurse. “What?” 

“I can see the wheels turning in your mind. This is not your fault. You hear me,  _ this is not your fault. _ ” 

Cal felt tears pool in his eyes. “But if I was here, I could have noticed the signs, I could have stopped him.” 

“Do you really think that you could spot what around the clock team of staff couldn’t?” 

Cal had a feeling saying yes wouldn’t be the right answer. 

The nurse reached her hands across the desk, twisting her fingers in Cal’s. “So do you understand me?” Cal looked down at their hands on the desk. There was a name plaque. Shazi Althiqua. “It is not your fault that your brother decided to die.” 

And that’s when Cal started to cry. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! If you did please, please, please leave a comment or a kudos! I live off hearing y'alls feedback!! 
> 
> If you liked this please come freak out with me about RQ on my tumblr @caven---malore !


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